


Do Not Go Gently

by JodyNorman



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3592545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JodyNorman/pseuds/JodyNorman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iolaus agrees to undergo a trial by fire in order to restore Hercules' family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Not Go Gently

"Psst. Psst, young master!"

Iolaus rolled out from under the cart he was fixing, and glanced around, then upward, then around again. He rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt that clung to his buttocks, and looked over the cart. A few paces away, an old woman leaned on a staff, staring at him.

"Excuse me, old mother," said Iolaus politely, stepping around the cart to approach her courteously. "Did you speak to me?"

"Certainly I did," said the old woman huffily. "And a pretty time it took you to hear me, too."

Iolaus sighed silently. "I'm sorry, but I was–"

"Helping someone. I know. You're always helping someone. But what about helping your friend, eh? What about him?"

Iolaus stiffened. "What friend? What do you mean?"

The old woman eyed him cunningly. "Why, Hercules, of course. What other friend would need your help as he does?"

The young man's eyes narrowed slightly, and he put his hands on his hips. "What do you mean, he needs my help? I saw him at lunchtime; he was fine."

The old woman snorted. "Oh, certainly he was fine. And you have the eyes that see, too, do you? As I do."

"See what?" Iolaus questioned, beginning to feel like one of those fancy multicolored birds he'd seen Salmonius selling at one time. What had he called them? Parrots, that was it. He felt like a parrot.

"I have the eyes to see," the old woman said solemnly.

"I'm very happy for you," Iolaus said politely, glancing back at the cart, which still sat up on the blocks he'd been using. The carter, a large black man who could easily make two of Iolaus if he could ever get hold of him, stood beside it, hands on hips and frowning. Iolaus began edging back toward the cart. "Now, if you don't mind…"

"I am an oracle," snapped the old woman.

Iolaus stopped, looking back at her with a doubtful gaze. But being an oracle was not something to be lied about – the gods took a dim view of that kind of thing.

"And I owe Hercules a favor," said the old woman softly.

Iolaus took a step toward her, then paused. "Then why not talk to him? Why come to me?"

She fixed him with a keen glare. "Because you are the one who can aid him. I cannot. And he would not ask for it."

"No," Iolaus muttered, "he wouldn't." He straightened, looking at her. "What can you tell me?"

"You worry about Hercules."

Iolaus looked down, then glanced up again. "Yeah," he said softly. "I do."

"Tell me your concern, and I will tell you what I can to aid you… and Hercules."

 _Oracles can't just tell you, they have to make you work for it_.  Iolaus sighed. "I want him to find love in his life," he said, his jaw set at the blunt words. "Can he?" He quickly restated the question. "Will he?"

The old woman sighed, scratching an abstruse design in the dirt. "Difficult to see. Always in motion is the future."

 _Then what good is it?_   "Well, when it settles down, come and find me again," said Iolaus, turning to head back to the cart.

"The answer depends on you."

Iolaus stopped, turning. "On me? Why?"

The old woman glanced around, then hobbled toward Iolaus. When she was close enough, she whispered, "Hera failed."

Iolaus straightened, all his interest abruptly focused on the woman. "Failed in what?" he said in the same low tone.

"When she destroyed Hercules' family, the destruction was not as complete as it might have seemed."

"What do you mean?" Iolaus snapped.

She shook her head. "You have the power to reverse that destruction, and return Deianeria and his children. However…" She hesitated, and Iolaus had to restrain himself from shaking her.

"However what?"

She met his eyes sadly. "You may not survive the process."

"I don't care about that!" Iolaus paused, taking a breath to get his voice back under control, then frowned at her. "Wait a minute. How've you survived with this knowledge?"

She shrugged. "I gained the favor of Zeus some while back, and thus am under his protection. Hera does not dare to injure me." She looked at him straightly. "You are not under Zeus' protection, but if you undertake this task, Hera cannot injure you except under its terms."

"Tell me the terms," said Iolaus tightly, shifting from foot to foot.

"In order to reverse the execution, someone who has won Hercules' trust must meet Hera's troops in battle in a meadow half a days' journey from town. You know the one I mean?"

Iolaus nodded thoughtfully. He and Herc had played there as boys, but he hadn't been back in years.

"These battles must fall on the day of the new moon and the two days following." She pointed a finger at Iolaus. "If you do not resist them, Hera must return Hercules' family."

She cut off Iolaus' question mid-word. "She cannot deny true self-sacrifice performed in the service of a friend." She looked steadily at him. "You are Hercules' friend and closer than brother. What other is there to perform this task?"

Iolaus reddened slightly and turned away. He stood a moment in thought, ignoring the increasingly irate glare of the carter, then turned back to the woman. "What makes you think he'd accept help from me, either?"

The old woman rolled her eyes at the sky. "For this I offer aid?" she demanded. "I would get more intelligence from a ball-less rooster!"

Iolaus shuddered at the image, then opened his mouth.

"He must not know, of course," she said impatiently. "If he halts your sacrifice, it is useless. You must contrive his absence and ignorance, or all is lost, and his family lost as well. Forever." She hesitated, then added, "And my debt to Hercules remains unpaid."

Iolaus nodded thoughtfully. "All right. The evening of the new moon, you said?"

She nodded. "You must meet them at sunset. And remember–" She caught his sleeve as he turned away, "You must not resist!"

"Yeah," said Iolaus briefly. "I'm not likely to forget. Thank you."

"No, young master," she said softly as he turned back to the carter, "Thank you."

Iolaus ignored her words as he levered himself back under the vehicle, something in his look silencing the carter's angry mutters. Behind him, a peacock feather whirled restlessly on the wind before drifting unseen into a pile of rocks.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Hercules watched Iolaus push around the food on his plate, hoping, he knew, to convince both Herc and Alcmene that he was actually eating it. Hercules shook his head, exchanging a wry glance with his mother, noting the hidden concern in her eyes. After all the years he and Iolaus had been friends and partners, teasing and sparring like brothers, it amazed him that Iolaus still thought that he could get away with something like that.

But then, his friend was troubled, had been for the last two days. Sometimes he was distant, seeming to ignore Herc altogether, sometimes morose and silent, and sometimes angry at the smallest things. Nothing pleased him, and Herc had had to bite back an angry response several times. Iolaus did not normally pick quarrels, but it sure seemed like he'd been trying recently.

"Some more bread, Iolaus?" asked Alcmene, leaning toward him.

"No."

Hercules grimaced at the curt answer, and Alcmene frowned. "Are you sure? You haven't been eating well recently, and–"

"Yes, I'm sure! Just leave me alone, both of you!"

Alcmene winced as if she'd been slapped, and Hercules gritted his teeth. But almost immediately, Iolaus cringed, closing his eyes against the hurt in Alcmene's face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said helplessly. "I'm– Sure, Alcmene, anything you want… That bread looks good, real good… Honest, I'm– I'll take it–"

"Iolaus," said Hercules patiently, "shut up."

"Oh, yeah, right, no problem, Herc, I'll just–" He leaned over, grabbed a slice of the bread, and left the table in a rush, his last word slamming into Hercules' ears like a farewell. "–leave."

Hercules and his mother stared at each other for a long moment of stunned silence, until Hercules rose, his expression serious. "I think I better find him."

Alcmene nodded. "I think so, sweetheart."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Iolaus slammed into the barn, bolting the door behind him and leaning on it, panting. Slowly, he slid down the door, his eyes holding a haunted expression until his buttocks hit the floor and he buried his face in his arms, the bread dropping unnoticed to the dirt.

Somehow, he had to get Hercules to leave, soon. The new moon was tomorrow night, and at sunset–

His mind balked at imagining that, and he tried instead to see Hercules as he would look if Deianeira and his children could be resurrected. But the joy he imagined in his friend's face was always overwhelmed by the sorrow he knew Herc would feel at his death. _Not this, Iolaus_ , he could hear Herc saying. _Not for this price_.

But the price was his to pay, if he chose. And he did choose. He would gladly die to see Hercules' family return and his friend find love again in his life, without a second thought. But Herc would have a second thought, he knew, and tried hard not to remember the recurring nightmare that plagued him.

_He lay on the grass in the meadow he and Herc had played in as children. His own blood soaked the ground around him, and he knew he was dying, unknown and un-mourned, having alienated Hercules._

_And then Hercules was bending over him, pale and terrified. "No, Iolaus, no. Why?"_

The dream always ended there, and he had yet to think of an answer he thought Hercules would accept. But then, even if it was a vision and not a dream, he would have all the time in Hades to come up with an answer before Hercules crossed over. That should be enough time, shouldn't it?

"Iolaus! Iolaus, answer me!"

He drew a deep breath, trying not to hear Hercules' voice rapidly approaching from the other side of the door. By all the gods he hoped the dream was just a nightmare and not a prophetic vision. He was absolutely sure that he didn't ever want to see that expression on Herc's face again. He'd seen it briefly as he'd died in Herc's arms some months ago, and that had been enough.

"Iolaus! Iolaus, where are you! Come on, Iolaus–"

"Please, are you Hercules?"

Iolaus lifted his head, listening intently.

"Please, my village… we need you. A monster has besieged us… only I got through to find you… please…"

"Of course, we'll help you. Why don't you go right in there and my mother will feed you before we head off, all right? Go on, I have to find a friend…"

A small smile pulled at Iolaus' lips at the automatic plural his friend used, fading immediately as he realized that the gods had delivered Hercules into his hands. Now all that remained was for him to seize the opportunity and force Herc to leave him behind.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Hercules strode along the road, ignoring the constant babble of his companion. Taquillicus, the man who'd asked for his help, turned out to be full of talk about his life, his village, his family, and everything else he could set words to, including rattling on and on about all he knew of Hercules' exploits, most of which was wrong. Hercules had long since ceased to listen or respond, since the man seemed only to need an audience to continue indefinitely.

Hercules was remembering his last conversation with Iolaus. _Well_ , he thought grimly, _call it what it was. It was a quarrel_.

And the more he thought about it, the more certain he was that Iolaus had picked it deliberately, but the why of such an action eluded him, and with Taquillicus' pleas for aid still ringing in his ears, he hadn't been able to spare the time to pursue the matter.

Briefly, he wondered if that hadn't been exactly what Iolaus' had counted on, then discarded the notion as foolish.

But even suspecting that the quarrel hadn't been real didn't stop the hurt of the words Iolaus' had flung at him.

_You don't need me, Hercules. Don't you know that by now? Everyone else does. No one else even notices that I'm alive when you're around. And don't tell me that you need my help – we both know that's a lie. You're just keeping me around to make me feel better, and I'll tell you, Hercules, I don't need charity. Not from you, not from anyone! So go on, go on, get out of here!_

Hercules bent his head against the constant flow of words from his companion, and forced himself on, ignoring his stinging eyes and the pain that made his chest tight. He'd come back when this monster was finished off and force Iolaus to talk to him, even if it meant tying him to a tree. He wasn't going to lose the best friend he'd ever had, who'd willingly undergone torture and death at the hands of the Enforcer to save him, if he had anything to say about it.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

From his perch in a tree, Iolaus watched Hercules walk stiffly down the road, his head bent. Iolaus pulled his legs up, resting his head on the clasped hands laid across his knees, and tried not to sniffle.

_I'm nothing to you, Hercules, you know that? I could die tomorrow and you'd never even notice I was gone!_

The bewildered pain in Hercules' eyes when Iolaus had flung the words at him had almost broken the younger man's resolve, and even now it took every iota of control not to leap from the tree and race down the road after him.

He closed his eyes against the depressed slump of his friend's shoulders, which he could read as well as if Herc had told him in words, and tried to fight the tears that slipped down his cheeks. He knew that he himself would die sometime in the next three days; that was an accepted fact. But to have his last words to his friend hurt Herc as much as he knew they had gave him an empty, aching pain that sat heavy in his chest, making every breath hurt.

"Come on, Iolaus," he murmured to himself, "how can you fight Hera's army if you feel like this?"

His gaze fell as he remembered the old woman, and he whispered, "Yeah, but I guess I won't be fighting them, now will I?"

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Iolaus stood in silence, watching as Hera's troops massed against him. He swallowed as he looked at their weapons: chains, axes, swords, knives, maces, and more – more than he had ever seen and some he didn't even know. The one thing he was certain of was that they were going to hurt.

 _Can I do this?_ he wondered as they started to approach.

Try as he might, battle fever started to hum through his veins, and he could not relax, for all his trying. Fighting an army was one thing, but it was, Iolaus discovered, vastly more difficult to submit to one. He had never been good at submitting.

He clenched his fists as they approached, fighting hard to keep from dancing forward and throwing a few kicks and punches. Deliberately he called up a memory of Herc's face, not as he'd seen it yesterday, but when he'd been a father and a husband. The way he played tag with his children, the warm affection he'd always showed them, the love in his eyes when he'd looked at Deianeira–

The first blow, an axe, caught him on the ribs, the second on the thigh. A chain wrapped around him and jerked. He fell flat, closing his eyes against the image of the huge mace lifted above him. Well, death would be quicker than he'd thought.

But it wasn't. An hour later, he lay helpless on the battlefield, watching the troops gather into formation and march off into the deepening night. Agony twisted through him, and he bit back a moan. He knew, with an absolute certainty that scared him, that every bone in his body was broken. He had counted, had kept track as, one by one, the soldiers had cracked them. He'd been past screaming then, and unashamed of it.

Blood was everywhere, his blood. He could taste it, smell it, and the skin on his face felt stiff with dried and clotted residue. His eyes were almost swollen shut, only slits of light left to him. Ribs were broken, lungs pierced, and he knew he was bleeding inside.

He wanted to move, an automatic protest against the pain that wracked him, but couldn't find the strength. Nor could he bring himself to care when he felt someone standing over him.

A woman. She knelt, placed a hand on his forehead, and Iolaus screamed, a dull, hoarse sound, trying to duck away from her so cold, ice-cold fingers.

Needles of bitter frost swept through him, freezing, numbing, overwhelming. Darkness caught him in its path, and he gratefully slid into it, wondering if he'd be dead when he woke up, and more than half hoping he would be.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Hercules dived aside at the last moment, hearing the villagers scream as the huge tail just missed him. The monster looked vaguely like a huge lizard, but its speed was surprising, and Hercules had almost been caught by its fierce jaws once already.

Rolling to his feet, he took a second to catch his breath, hearing a woman whimpering behind him and wishing, not for the first time, that the villagers weren't treating this like a social event. They refused to hide, continuing to creep out to watch, and worrying about them was a slight, but serious distraction, one he didn't need.

Iolaus was the only one who'd ever helped him, acting like a partner rather than a spectator, and treating Hercules like a man rather than a hero. He rolled again, choking in the dust that swirled in the wake of the huge paw.

He had a plan, if he could just find the time to set it in motion. Damn, but he missed Iolaus!

It took several more nerve-wracking escapes before he managed to work his way behind the boulder he'd been aiming toward. Somewhat behind and to one side of the monster, it put the creature at a slight disadvantage, and in the seconds that it took for the beast to turn toward him, he grabbed the boulder and threw it, then dodged as the huge jaws snapped at him.

It took a moment for the lump the huge rock had left on the monster's head to register in the tiny brain. It rumbled to a stop, swayed for a moment, then loosed a bloodcurdling scream and crashed thunderously to the ground. Hercules just managed to avoid becoming a very flat doormat by a frantic roll to evade the behemoth, but didn't have time to look where he was going.

Stars flashed vividly across the skies as he smashed into another boulder, and for a long moment there was only darkness. The sound dissipated with the sound of loud cheers as the villagers thronged around him, pulling him up and proudly escorting him to the nearest bar, ignoring Hercules' protests.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Iolaus sat at the edge of the meadow and watched the sun drop toward the horizon. He was healed and whole, if somewhat bruised and scratched. _Guess Hera doesn't care about the small stuff_ , he thought cynically. But Hera's notions of healing left a lot to be desired, and on the whole Iolaus wasn't sure which he feared more, the pain of the wounds inflicted in battle, or the goddess' icy touch.

Watching the sun touch the hills, he couldn't bite back a shiver. Could he face this again? Last night had been his version of Tarterus, and to experience it again, especially when he had a good idea of what would happen and how it would feel…

He took a deep breath and thought of Herc.

It was getting harder and harder to visualize Herc's delight at the return of his family. That damned vision (no, dream, that was all it was, just a dream) kept intruding on his thoughts, and try as he might, he couldn't change it. More and more often now, all he could see was Herc's agonized expression as he found Iolaus, or the tortured whisper of "Why, Iolaus? Why?"

He scowled as he watched the sun inch slowly behind the hill. Herc would do the same for him if circumstances warranted it. Herc had gone to Hades for him, and though Iolaus hadn't let himself react to that at the time, he had thought about it a great deal since. To mean that much to someone… it awed him.

But Herc meant a lot to him, too. Friend, partner, brother… all in one. This was his to do, no one else's, and by the gods, he would do it. Because he had to, that was why.

He watched the army reform at the meadow's edge, and unfolded himself, standing to face them. If possible, there were even more tonight, and he knew he hadn't seen some of those weapons the night before. He swallowed hard, then set himself.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Hercules lengthened his stride, uneasiness biting at him. He was almost halfway home, and would make it by sunset if he kept up the same pace. And that was the way he wanted it, because something was wrong, very wrong. He'd felt it ever since he'd left, and every night he had nightmares about Iolaus. He never remembered them in the morning, but he knew they were getting worse.

He followed the turn in the road, nodding to the old woman who stood at its side, and hoping he could pass her without any conversation.

"Are you Hercules?"

 _So much for that_. "Yes," he answered courteously, stopping a few feet from her, but ready to resume his journey.

"Ah," she nodded. Then, when he started to step away, she said hurriedly, "Is Iolaus a friend of yours?"

Hercules turned sharply, moving closer. "Yes, he is. Is something wrong?"

"Ah, well, that depends," she said solomnly. "He is not much of a friend to you, is he?"

Hercules' eyes narrowed. "What do you mean? Iolaus is my _best_ friend."

She snickered. "He must not feel it, then."

"What do you mean?" Hercules spaced the words through his teeth.

"Why, he has made a bargain with Hera."

"What?!" Hercules stared at her in shock. "No. No, not Iolaus. Never."

"Ah, but he has." She examined her hands, looking slyly up at him through her eyelashes. "He is jealous, you see. Jealous of your fame, and of your strength. And so he has made a bargain with Hera, that he may be your equal, and not your follower."

Hercules shook his head, and kept shaking it. "No. No. No, he wouldn't– He doesn't care about that."

But unbidden, Iolaus words at their parting rose in his mind. _No one else even notices that I'm alive when you're around. And don't tell me that you need my help – we both know that's a lie_.

She smiled at him, and Hercules shivered. "Who– Who are you?"

"A friend – to both you and Iolaus," she purred. "I heard of his horrible bargain and thought you would have need of knowing it."

Hercules moistened lips suddenly dry. "What– What's the bargain?"

"Why, he meets Hera's army in the meadow near your town for the night of the new moon and two nights following, and if he survives – for he cannot resist them, or the bargain is off – then he is given power equal to yours." She smirked at him. "Did you not wish to know that?"

Hercules whirled, racing towards home, and Iolaus. Dust puffed behind him, obscuring the shape of the old woman, but not the sound of her soft laughter.

Another puff of wind caught the old woman's hair as Hercules rounded a turn in the road, and there was a swirling kaleidoscope of colors for a moment that cleared to reveal a single peacock feather, drifting downward.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

The sun was setting.

Hercules didn't lift his head from his pounding run. He had run for a good two hours before slowing to a jog, hard-won common sense telling him that if he arrived exhausted he would do neither himself nor Iolaus any good. So he limited himself to a jog for the next half hour, then broke into a run again.

Now, three hours later, his breath tore in his chest, his heart pounded heavily, and thirst was a constant companion. Half-god he might be, but he was also half-mortal, and the mortal half was nearing its limits. Soon he would have to call on the divine strength that he ordinarily drew on only in fights, and carefully there.

He lengthened his stride as he passed the fork in the road, ignoring the path that ran toward the village, taking instead the one that wound into the hills.

 _No… Iolaus… no… Iolaus…. No…_ pounded in his head, matching his ragged breathing.

          Ahead, the sunset blazed, its fiery color already fading, and he pushed himself, drawing on that divine strength with reckless abandon, knowing he would pay for such rash use later. But now was all that mattered, and he swerved off the road, bulling his way over the faint trail that still survived from his boyhood days.

The scream made him stumble, almost sending him into a ravine, but he caught himself and hurled himself over the hill and into the meadow.

The field was black with warriors, but they were all concentrated in a huge knot at the end of the turf, and didn't immediately notice Hercules as he threw himself into the pack, moving through them with all the speed and strength he could muster – and even close to the end of his endurance, he was more than equal to meeting them, driven as he was.

It was a very short span of moments before Hercules tossed the last warrior over his shoulder with a casual ferocity that few ever saw him use. He cast one quick glance around him, but Hera's warriors were either fleeing, dead, or dying – if they were capable of such. Either way, he stood alone beside Iolaus' prone figure, and he knelt, his hand shaking as he pressed a finger to the pulse point in the neck, the skin slippery with blood.

So much blood, so many wounds…

Hercules drew a small breath as he felt the heartbeat under his fingers, but it was faint, dying even as he measured it.

Under the gentle touch, familiar as his own name, Iolaus stirred, opening blood-crusted eyes to peer upward. "Herc?" The whisper was thin, the breath supporting it almost gone, but his fingers curled into his friend's tunic, and Hercules bowed his head, tears burning in his throat.

"No," he whispered. "No. Why? Iolaus, why?"

Iolaus closed his eyes again, a crazy, whimsical frustration making his lips curl. Damn it, wouldn't you know? "Damn dream," he whispered. No dream, though… prophetic vision, rather. It figured. And since Herc had rescued him, the bargain was off, unless Iolaus could repudiate him…

It took more strength than Iolaus had ever had to call on to turn away from the love in Herc's eyes, and the agonized betrayal. "No," he whispered, struggling to force the words out against the dying wind in his lungs. "Go… away… don't need… your… help."

Anger battled despair in Hercules' eyes. Anger won. "Damn you, Iolaus! Why?!"

Death is gentle and easy. Iolaus knew that, knew that it was dying that was hard, and now he recognized the passage, having made it so recently. His fingers loosened, his eyes falling closed.

" _No!_ " In one frantic move, Hercules pulled Iolaus into his arms, as if he could hold off death itself with the harsh grip. But he was losing, and he knew it. This time he had no tricks to pull, no favors to ask, no tasks he could perform. His best friend was dying, and he didn't even know why.

"Well, isn't this a pretty sight!"

Hercules started, jerking his head up. In front of him stood one young woman, blond and very pretty, and at the moment, extremely annoyed.

"All right!" she snapped. "That's it. I've had it up to here with tragedies!" She glared over her shoulder, and Hercules realized that a group of equally young and beautiful women stood behind her, eying her warily.

"As Calliope, Muse of eloquence and epic poetry, I want a good, _positive_ outcome this time," she said decisively. "No more of this death and destruction!" She snapped her fingers, and a ripple of color danced between her fingers, solidifying into a vial of glowing green liquid. Bending, she handed it to Hercules, who loosed one hand from Iolaus and took it numbly, staring at her.

"Well," she snapped, "don't just stare at it, or me. Use it!"

"Uh," Hercules stuttered, "what– what is it?"

Calliope cast her gaze upward. "What a wonderfully insightful remark to make at a time like this! Can't you do any better than that? I'm going to write this all down, you know, and it doesn't do me any good at all if he dies." She gestured to Iolaus. "So give it to him already! It's a vial from Hippocrates, of course. It won't heal him immediately, but it's the best I could do."

Hercules looked down at Iolaus, knowing instinctively that his friend was on the very brink of death. One breath more, and he was gone. Quickly, he laid him down again, and, hands shaking slightly, cautiously unstoppered the vial, not even taking the time to sniff it. Either it was what the Muse said, or it wasn't, and if it wasn't, Iolaus was dead anyway. Slipping a bloodstained hand behind his friend's head, he raised it, tilting the vial against the torn lips.

Iolaus swallowed, unable to fight the automatic impulse. Death's darkness hung around him, a deep and velvety black, and Hercules stared down at him, wordless fear making him shiver. When he looked up again, the meadow was empty.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"Breakfast is waiting, dear."

Alcmene's voice broke the spell, and Hercules turned from Iolaus' bedside to stare at her blankly. "What?"

Alcmene took a patient breath. "Breakfast, Hercules. It's waiting for you."

Hercules turned back to his vigil. "I'm not hungry."

She sighed silently, her gaze moving worriedly to Iolaus. He lay as still as when her son had brought him home, long after dark. She shuddered as she remembered the horrific wounds he had sustained – cuts, slashes, broken bones, crushed fingers… she'd never seen the like on someone. At least, not someone living. And oh, the blood. So much of it.

It had taken all her self-control to clean him and not weep, but she wasn't sure if her tears were for him or for her son. Hercules' eyes were dry, his face set. He had shown no emotion when he'd brought Iolaus home, settling him on the guest bed that was used so much by the young man that the room was considered his own by Hercules and Alcmene. When her ministrations were finished he settled into a chair beside the bed, reciting the story in a toneless voice that told her as much about his feelings as did the words. And then he waited, watching his friend with a stony look that forced tears to prick behind Alcmene's eyes.

She sighed, reaching to touch her son's shoulder, only to let the hand drop before completing the move. Hercules was alone in this, and the space around him reverberated with solitude. She only hoped that when Iolaus finally woke that the answers her son found wouldn't kill the brotherhood the two had built across the years.

But at least Iolaus lived. And he was healing. Not rapidly, but steadily, and far faster than he would have without Hippocrates' potion. He was breathing easier, and the lines of pain were slowly fading from his face, but he lay still, deeply unconscious. Her son had some physical healing to do, too, though, and food was a necessity. She knew, with an intimacy only Iolaus could surpass, the price her son paid for heavy use of his divine abilities. Ordinary fights with mortals were one thing, even a fight or two with monsters, but the more he pushed his godly reserves, the more he paid later. Chills, shakes, weakness, sometimes even unconsciousness, were the consequences as his mortal body caught up with the godly powers he could wield.

Silently, she left, re-entering with a plate of food, which she quietly set in front of her son. He looked up at her, starting to push the plate away, then caught her look and grimaced. "I'm not hungry, Mother."

She folded her arms and stared him down, until finally he sighed and picked up a fork, slowly cleaning his plate with listless movements. Finishing, he stared down at Iolaus, then up at her. "Why, Mother?" he asked helplessly. "Why would he do this? I can't believe– I won't believe– that he could make a bargain with Hera… against me."

This time Alcmene did touch him, ruffling his hair as he leaned against her. "Hercules, we don't have the whole story yet. Iolaus is– is a brother to you, a son to me. You can't judge him until you know his side."

Hercules lowered his head to his hands, closing his eyes. "I don't– I don't know, Mother. What he said…"

"You have to wait," she said firmly. "Never mind what he said, you don't know why he said it. You have to hear it from him."

Hercules took a breath, then dropped his hands, staring down at Iolaus. "You're right." With that, he settled again in his seat, his expression set and guarded, a deliberate cool control in his eyes.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"He told me to give this to you, Hercules." The teenager stood in front of Hercules, trying not to stare.

Hercules took the scroll and nodded to the boy. "Thank you." He watched the youngster leave, then sank down on the porch swing that he and Iolaus had hung the last time they'd been home, and unrolled the scroll.

> _Herc, If you're reading this, I guess I'm dead and Deianeria and the kids are with you. If that's true, then you already know why I did what I did._

Hercules stopped reading, blinking back tears. "Oh, gods, Iolaus," he whispered shakily.

> _I met an oracle who said she owed you a favor, and she told me that Hera's murder of your family had a glitch. If I faced Hera's army, she'd be forced to bring them back. So I did._

Hercules closed his eyes against the words, the blunt caring in them almost too much against the anger and betrayal he'd been feeling. He drew a breath, then forced his eyes open, focusing on the scroll with difficulty.

> _Herc, what I said to you before you left wasn't real. I hope you can believe me. It hurt a lot to say, and it's not true. I've never been able to say this to you, and I'm not sure I could say it to you now, but you're like a brother to me. Being your friend is the best part of my life, and I don't regret any of the choices I made to be with you. I'd make them all again if I could. I'm just sorry our goodbyes had to be so hard._

Hercules swiped at his burning eyes with his sleeve, determined to finish the scroll before he dealt with himself.

> _I hope you and Deianeria and the kids have a long, full life, Herc. Don't regret what I did – I don't. And, don't be mad, either, okay? I don't want us to end like that._

There was no closing comment, just the bold, sweeping signature.

Hercules carefully rolled the scroll up, placing it on the seat, then lurched to his feet and stumbled down the steps, picking up the axe and swinging viciously on the pile of uncut wood waiting for chopping.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Iolaus tried to turn away from the light, but it was hopeless. Finally, he gave up, blinking against the mid-afternoon brightness.

He wasn't in Hades. Moving slowly, he shifted to look around the room, his gaze pausing at the empty chair beside the bed. No, nor the Elysian Fields, unless the Fields resembled his room in Herc's house so closely.

Oh, gods. Herc.

Iolaus released a silent breath of despair and dropped his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes against the specter of guilt that swamped him. Herc.

He saw it now, with all the clarity he had not before. A trick, that was all it had been. Hera's trick, to nail Hercules where it hurt the most – Iolaus.

And he'd fallen for it.

All the things he'd said to Hercules, thrown at him in the heat of forced passion, trickled slowly through his mind.

 _You don't need me, Hercules. Don't you know that by now? Everyone else does. No one else even notices that I'm alive when you're around. And don't tell me that you need my help – we both know that's a lie. You're just keeping me around to make me feel better, and I'll tell you this, Hercules, I don't need charity. Not from you, not from anyone! So go on, go on, get out of here! I'm nothing to you, Hercules, you know that? I could die tomorrow and you'd never even notice I was gone_!

Oh, gods. There was no way to apologize for any of that, nor for Herc's rescue of him at the last. And what had Herc done to gain his, Iolaus', healing? Iolaus lifted his head in sudden panic. He had died, he knew that, could not mistake the darkness that he'd entered once before. Had Herc offered his own life in exchange for Iolaus'?

But he could hear, through the walls and the open window behind him, the ring of an axe, and knew from the speed of the blows that they were Herc's, an angry Herc's, at that.

And he remembered, as if through a dark haze, Hercules' lifting him afterward, carrying him home. Bits and pieces of conversation drifted through his head, words he'd heard while lying here. He remembered Herc's rage as he flung words at Iolaus when he lay unresponsive, remembered Alcmene's gentleness as she bathed him, and finally, remembered Herc's cold decisiveness as he told the unconscious Iolaus that he would wait, but not forever, so he'd better wake up soon.

Iolaus closed his eyes against the pain. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. That cold tone of Herc's… damn. He'd lost Herc's friendship, what he would've died to keep, what he'd almost died to honor. Now, though…

He shivered, opening his eyes again. Somehow, there had to be a way to finish the job, to kill himself before Herc could stop him, before he came back, before Iolaus had to explain what he'd tried to do, how much of a fool he'd been, and face how much he'd lost in the doing.

He levered himself up on one elbow, then looked down at himself with a frown. No pain. Not only that, he realized as he eyed himself, dressed only in shorts and covered with a light cotton blanket. No scars, either. No sign he'd ever been in that meadow, dying for three sunsets.

But he was still weak, as he found when he turned on his side to face the bedside table. His head dropped to the pillow for a long moment as he tried to catch his breath. When the world stopped graying out at the edges, he drew himself up on his elbows again, his eyes focused on the eating knife Herc had left behind from lunch.

It was only a few feet to wriggle across the bed, but it took long moments of effort, and by the time Iolaus could reach the knife he was panting and the world was hazy. He took one last breath and stretched for the blade, his fingers at last curling around the cool haft and lifting it.

A hand closed around his wrist and twisted, and Iolaus dropped the knife as pain forked through his wrist. He jerked backward, falling onto the bed with Hercules' other hand against his chest, enough force in the move that Iolaus lay perfectly still, pinned with that superhuman strength.

"What in Hades do you think you're doing!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Iolaus threw back at Hercules, trying to keep up the charade. It would hurt so much less if he could avoid dealing with the past and simply focus on the now of his intentions.

Hercules lifted his hand from Iolaus' chest and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. His gaze was neutral, and Iolaus tried to meet it and looked away. "It looks," Hercules said, a dangerous mildness to his voice, "like you were about to cut your throat."

"Yeah, so what?" Iolaus flung at him, choosing the words by random. "You don't care anymore, so what does it matter? It's my choice; it's got nothing to do with you–"

Hercules reached inside his shirt and pulled out the scroll, and Iolaus' voice died mid-word. "Oh, damn," he whispered, his gaze dropping from Hercules'. "I forgot that."

"I thought you might've," Hercules said softly.

Iolaus laid an arm across his eyes and was silent, a sour taste of defeat at the back of his throat.

He heard a rustle as Hercules dropped into the seat beside the bed. "Thank you."

Iolaus lifted his arm to peer out at him. "Huh?"

"Thank you," Hercules repeated patiently. "For trying to do what you did."

Iolaus let his arm drop again, trying to conceal the surge of fierce embarrassment that swept over him. He wasn't given the option.

A large hand closed gently around his arm and lifted it, and Iolaus blinked at Hercules' firm expression as his friend carefully laid it on the bed, keeping a hand on the wrist as Iolaus tried to pull away. Iolaus sighed and relaxed, turning to look at Hercules. Their eyes met, and Iolaus looked away, then back.

"I meant what I wrote in that," he said softly, glancing at the scroll. "But I never meant to be Hera's pawn." He drew a breath, then added, "Not against you."

Hercules looked down at him, then smiled, a slow, affectionate smile that made Iolaus' gaze drop again. "I know that. And just so you know, I feel the same way."

Iolaus nodded, not looking at him, and felt Hercules' smile widen. "Good. I wouldn't want you to have to get the news by scroll after my death."

Iolaus flushed, and Hercules' voice turned sober. "Iolaus."

The younger man swallowed, looking up.

"If you ever try something like this again, brother, I'll have to kill you."

Iolaus nodded, then grinned. "Before or after you save my life?"

"After," said Hercules decisively, then paused. "I think."

"You think! Well, that's friendship for you! You know, Herc, you're beginning to sound like…"

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"Ah," sighed Calliope, scribbling furiously. "I _really_ like a good ending. It gives me such a warm fuzzy when it all works out."

"You do have a point," Clio, Muse of history, said thoughtfully. "And you end up with a potential for more history between them, which you lose if one of them dies."

"Exactly," smiled Calliope.

"Hmph," said Melpomene.

"Oh, come on, Mel," said Erato, tossing her head. "You're the muse of tragedy, and we get enough of that. Besides," she said thoughtfully, her supernatural gaze focused on Hercules, who was now sternly restraining Iolaus as his friend tried to get out of bed. "I can see some _other_ possibilities…"

"Psst.Psst, young master!"

Iolaus rolled out from under the cart he was fixing, and glanced around, then upward, then around again.He rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt that clung to his buttocks, and looked over the cart.A few paces away, an old woman leaned on a staff, staring at him.

"Excuse me, old mother," said Iolaus politely, stepping around the cart to approach her courteously."Did you speak to me?"

"Certainly I did," said the old woman huffily."And a pretty time it took you to hear me, too."

Iolaus sighed silently."I'm sorry, but I was–"

"Helping someone.I know.You're always helping someone.But what about helping your friend, eh?What about him?"

Iolaus stiffened."What friend?What do you mean?"

The old woman eyed him cunningly."Why, Hercules, of course.What other friend would need your help as he does?"

The young man's eyes narrowed slightly, and he put his hands on his hips."What do you mean, he needs my help?I saw him at lunchtime; he was fine."

The old woman snorted."Oh, certainly he was fine.And you have the eyes that see, too, do you?As I do."

"See what?" Iolaus questioned, beginning to feel like one of those fancy multicolored birds he'd seen Salmonius selling at one time.What had he called them?Parrots, that was it.He felt like a parrot.

"I have the eyes to see," the old woman said solemnly.

"I'm very happy for you," Iolaus said politely, glancing back at the cart, which still sat up on the blocks he'd been using.The carter, a large black man who could easily make two of Iolaus if he could ever get hold of him, stood beside it, hands on hips and frowning.Iolaus began edging back toward the cart."Now, if you don't mind…"

"I am an oracle," snapped the old woman.

Iolaus stopped, looking back at her with a doubtful gaze.But being an oracle was not something to be lied about – the gods took a dim view of that kind of thing.

"And I owe Hercules a favor," said the old woman softly.

Iolaus took a step toward her, then paused."Then why not talk to him?Why come to me?"

She fixed him with a keen glare."Because you are the one who can aid him.I cannot.And he would not ask for it."

"No," Iolaus muttered, "he wouldn't."He straightened, looking at her."What can you tell me?"

"You worry about Hercules."

Iolaus looked down, then glanced up again."Yeah," he said softly."I do."

"Tell me your concern, and I will tell you what I can to aid you… and Hercules."

_ Oracles can't just tell you, they have to make you work for it _ .Iolaus sighed."I want him to find love in his life," he said, his jaw set at the blunt words."Can he?"He quickly restated the question."Will he?"

The old woman sighed, scratching an abstruse design in the dirt."Difficult to see.Always in motion is the future."

_ Then what good is it? _ "Well, when it settles down, come and find me again," said Iolaus, turning to head back to the cart.

"The answer depends on you."

Iolaus stopped, turning."On me?Why?"

The old woman glanced around, then hobbled toward Iolaus.When she was close enough, she whispered, "Hera failed."

Iolaus straightened, all his interest abruptly focused on the woman."Failed in what?" he said in the same low tone.

"When she destroyed Hercules' family, the destruction was not as complete as it might have seemed."

"What do you mean?" Iolaus snapped.

She shook her head."You have the power to reverse that destruction, and return Deianeria and his children.However…"She hesitated, and Iolaus had to restrain himself from shaking her.

"However what?"

She met his eyes sadly."You may not survive the process."

"I don't care about that!"Iolaus paused, taking a breath to get his voice back under control, then frowned at her."Wait a minute.How've you survived with this knowledge?"

She shrugged."I gained the favor of Zeus some while back, and thus am under his protection.Hera does not dare to injure me."She looked at him straightly."You are not under Zeus' protection, but if you undertake this task, Hera cannot injure you except under its terms."

"Tell me the terms," said Iolaus tightly, shifting from foot to foot.

"In order to reverse the execution, someone who has won Hercules' trust must meet Hera's troops in battle in a meadow half a days' journey from town.You know the one I mean?"

Iolaus nodded thoughtfully.He and Herc had played there as boys, but he hadn't been back in years.

"These battles must fall on the day of the new moon and the two days following."She pointed a finger at Iolaus."If you do not resist them, Hera must return Hercules' family."

She cut off Iolaus' question mid-word."She cannot deny true self-sacrifice performed in the service of a friend."She looked steadily at him."You are Hercules' friend and closer than brother.What other is there to perform this task?"

Iolaus reddened slightly and turned away.He stood a moment in thought, ignoring the increasingly irate glare of the carter, then turned back to the woman."What makes you think he'd accept help from me, either?"

The old woman rolled her eyes at the sky."For this I offer aid?" she demanded."I would get more intelligence from a ball-less rooster!"

Iolaus shuddered at the image, then opened his mouth.

"He must not know, of course," she said impatiently."If he halts your sacrifice, it is useless.You must contrive his absence and ignorance, or all is lost, and his family lost as well.Forever."She hesitated, then added, "And my debt to Hercules remains unpaid."

Iolaus nodded thoughtfully."All right. The evening of the new moon, you said?"

She nodded."You must meet them at sunset.And remember–"She caught his sleeve as he turned away, "You must not resist!"

"Yeah," said Iolaus briefly."I'm not likely to forget.Thank you."

"No, young master," she said softly as he turned back to the carter, "Thank you."

Iolaus ignored her words as he levered himself back under the vehicle, something in his look silencing the carter's angry mutters.Behind him, a peacock feather whirled restlessly on the wind before drifting unseen into a pile of rocks.


End file.
